There’s a lot to see in and around Oaxaca, so when we got a good deal on a rental car we jumped on that and have been ripping back and forth across the city ever since. This morning we drove on up to Monte Albán, a nice looking archaeological site sitting high above Oaxaca on a ridge that was lopped off and leveled some 2,500 years ago—presumably without bulldozers.
We had a beautiful day (sun, high of 80, low of 55), which has really been the norm since moving inland from the coast. The kids were able to run wild and climb most everything—and what kid doesn’t love to climb on rocks that were piled up thousands of years ago? And generally, we were just able to enjoy a fun day out in a pretty beautiful setting.
However, there was one thing that Ali and I didn’t enjoy, and that was our kids’ bathroom habits. First Ouest had to go. We were about a fifteen minute walk from the bathrooms. I dutifully walked her there, all the while thinking to myself, “If there is one thing I won’t miss about the kids growing up, it is this.” The constant bathroom breaks at the most inopportune times.
Of course, ten minutes after we all met up again and were climbing around the highest point of the ruins Lowe yelled out, “Poooop!” He yelled this loud enough to alert the cleaning lady back in the bathrooms so that she could be prepared. Never mind that it had only been half an hour since we asked him repeatedly if he needed to use the bathroom. Ali turned to me and said, “I swear to god I am not going to miss this part of their childhood one bit.” At which point—above all other points in our past twenty-five years together—I knew we were meant to be together.
Sometimes I look at our kids playing with their toys and I think, they really are a throwback to a more innocent time.